Check out the Crafty Pod for some more sewing stories.
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My discoveries of sewing and satin underwear were simultaneous.
Somewhere in my pre-teen years, when I took an active interest in my
underwear stock, I would cut my Carter's polyester slips into lopsided
camisoles and matching underwear, temporarily held together by loopy
pink stitches.I now attribute those bumbling sewing attempts to ambition rather than budding kinkiness. Recycling years of scratchy Easter-dress slips into awkward, poorly-fitting lingerie had more to do with emulating adulthood
than heading for a lap-dancing career. But nonetheless, that cursory,
fleeting venture into sewing was my only reference point for a second
attempt, more than ten years later. The overwhelming difference being that
this time, I plunked down both cash and dignity to learn my way around a
sewing machine.
| "I now attribute those bumbling sewing attempts to ambition rather than budding kinkiness." |
When I told people I was taking a sewing class, I felt I needed to
qualify my intentions. I wasn't practicing to become a Stepford wife or
to learn how to darn socks. I simply wanted to avoid paying ten bucks for
someone else to hem a pair of my pants. I was on a quest to become more
handy and self-reliant. Over the course of the next five
Wednesday evenings, 12 women and I sat in a high-ceilinged workshop
drinking tea and eating butter cookies, each crafting a kimono
robe.
Our instructor was a legal secretary with three cats and small hands who
brought in a pile of her own hand-made clothes to bait us the first
night. We each showed the fabric we had chosen and
offered up our sewing backgrounds. There were women in their 50s who
wanted to make curtains and grandchildren's bibs, a quiet 13-year-old
who disappeared after the second class, a hip 30-year-old graphic
designer looking to go to fashion school, and then the rest of us:
mostly in our 20s or 30s, ideally wanting to incorporate some original
ideas into our wardrobes, but realistically settling to become a bit
more capable behind a sewing machine.
| "Once you
have that first run along a hemline without the
nervous wobbles, something indelible writes itself into place and you
have it nailed." |
Sewing is very spacial, and translating the pattern into something your
brain can decipher is often hardest part. Picking up sewing is a lot
like snowboarding or riding a bike for the first time: It might not
make a lot of sense in the convoluted map of your brain, but once you
have that first run down a mountain or along a hemline without the
nervous wobbles, something indelible writes itself into place and you
have it nailed.
After cutting the fabric in long, continuous strokes (think shaving
legs) and pinning it right sides together, we threaded the machines.
When we were finally released to the actual task of sewing, I was reminded of
playing those video games with steering wheels and gas pedals. Sewing
is very similar, controlling the speed and guiding the fabric under the
needle in either straight lines or hopeful curves. I was lost in the
action of the needle and began to teeter a bit, preoccupied with the
immediate, tangible progress tracked by a new seam.
| "And seam rippers only cost a buck." |
Throughout the length of the classes, the hardest part was
envisioning how abstract chunks of fabric were ever going to piece
together into a finished robe. But seam by seam, the end product snaps
into realization. It is the kind of undertaking that gains tremendous
clarity in hindsight. Looking back at a pattern that was initially
baffling, it becomes insultingly obvious how it has clicked together.
The encouraging part is that there are patterns to match varying degrees
of ambition. And seam rippers only cost a buck.
Top Ten Tips:
- Use a pattern. As much as you want to believe you can envision
fabulous, drapey clothes and immediately translate them to reality, do
it in stages. Patterns provide hints, terms, logical order, and all
sorts of other clues. It also tells you what sort of fabric works best
for that garment, and how much to buy. Patterns are training wheels for
your brilliance.
- Wash and dry fabric before starting (and if you're a sewing virgin,
use a natural fabric, i.e. cotton). Otherwise, you might make something
that tucks and lifts in all the right places, toss it in the dryer, and
then have to give it to a waif friend (never a good thing). Best to
sort out the shrinking factor before any cutting, pinning, or sewing.
- Fold fabric in half before cutting. This makes a lot of sense if
you look in a mirror. We have a front and back to our bodies, which
clothes need to have as well. Cutting fabric from a folded piece
lessens your prep work by half.
- Learn the markings. The arrows and notches that appear on the
pattern all mean something, and odds are that it's something that will
help your process along. They are usually defined and coded in the
pattern instructions, which you should be paying close attention to at
this point.
- Thread the machine correctly. It's stating the obvious, but it can
complicate things quickly if not done completely. Make sure the thread
is pulled through all the pressure points or it might start leaping
around the underside of your garment and creating pesky thread mohawks.
- Use fabric scraps to work out kinks. After your fabric is cut and
pinned, use any extra small scraps to make sure you're getting a clean
seam before moving onto the machine.
- Sew right sides together. This is the mantra of sewing. Refer to your
sheets or other clothes to sort out the "right side" concept. The sides of the fabric
that you want to be the outside of the garment needs to be sewn together
so the piece has a uniform appearance. Sewing a right side to wrong
side will become immediately apparent and embarrassing.
- Use a Post-It Note. The standard seam allowance is 5/8 of an inch,
which is conveniently marked on the plate that rests under the needle
and pressure foot (the piece that is lowered down to hold the fabric in
place around the needle). Placing the edge of a hot-pink Post-It along
that line exaggerates the steering line.
- Press open seams for finishes. Once a seam is completed, it needs
to be finished so it will lay flat and keep from unraveling. Pressing
the inside of each seam open with an iron does a lot of the work for
you. Then you need to pick a seam finish. The most basic is "stitch
and pink," referring to sewing down each half of the opened seam and
cutting right beside the stitching with pinking shears. There are seam
finishes to control bulky fabrics, ones that produce a top-stitch on the
right side of the fabric, and ones that are sewn similarly to wrapping a burrito; but stitch and pink as plenty effective for me.
- Make mistakes. As long as you try not to make them cutting the
fabric, almost anything beyond that can be ripped out and chalked up to
practice. I sewed my sleeve closed; someone else attached the shoulder
piece to the hemline. Sidle on up to your seam ripper, have another
go, and be encouraged by the new odds that you'll never again sew your
sleeve closed.
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